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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27221344">i just play it cool</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/yunyeos/pseuds/yunyeos'>yunyeos</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>ATEEZ (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fluff, Food, M/M, One-Sided Rivalry</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 20:20:57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,885</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27221344</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/yunyeos/pseuds/yunyeos</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Wooyoung had always taken pride in his ability to get along well with anyone no matter what, but it’s as if Yeosang’s sole purpose in life was to run that idea into the ground.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jung Wooyoung/Kang Yeosang</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>85</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>The Server Made An Attempt</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>i just play it cool</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this is what <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26313742">new start</a> would have been if i were more inspired at the time</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Wooyoung had always taken pride in his ability to get along well with anyone no matter what, but it’s as if Kang Yeosang’s sole purpose in life was to run that idea into the ground. 
</p><p>
Apparently, he received his cooking certificate a while ago and wanted to retake a class to reacquaint himself with the basics, but Wooyoung couldn’t bring himself to believe it.
</p><p>
Before Wooyoung knew him, Yeosang was just a pretty face in his cooking class. His friend San tried to spark conversations about him but Wooyoung showed disinterest every time.
</p><p>
“He’s pretty,” San commented.
</p><p>
“Yeah, he is,” Wooyoung agreed impassively. Wooyoung thought the word “pretty” barely encapsulated Yeosang’s looks but he kept that to himself. He didn’t say anything else after that. 
</p><p>
After a beat of silence, San recognized that he hit a wall in the conversation and changed the topic to something more interesting.
</p><p>
Wooyoung’s completely neutral impression of Yeosang was upheld by the fact that they stayed out of each other’s ways until the moment they interacted. This was Wooyoung’s fault, he’d admit, but seeing Yeosang struggling with putting his apron on made him feel bad.
</p><p>
Yeosang was awkward with his apron, tightening his hands around the strings before loosening his grip with uncertainty.
</p><p>
He did this a couple of times and Wooyoung watched him from afar. After watching Yeosang give a few more tries, and failing, Wooyoung decided to leave his island counter and approach him.
</p><p>
“Hey.”
</p><p>
Wooyoung’s tone came off a little cold and he internally cringed at himself. He should at least try to be nice before acting on his emotions.
</p><p>
Yeosang stilled and lifted his head. “Yes?”
</p><p>
Wooyoung cleared his throat to soften his voice. He pointed to the black cloth. “I can help you with your apron, if you’d like.”
</p><p>
“Hmm, alright,” Yeosang agreed too easily and handed Wooyoung his apron.
</p><p>
Then he raised his arms and Wooyoung felt a flare of frustration.
</p><p>
He planned to teach Yeosang how to put it on, but he didn’t expect Yeosang to make him put it on for him. If he just put it on for him, then Yeosang would never learn how to do it on his own, and Yeosang would still be fumbling with it at the start of the next class.
</p><p>
Wooyoung looked down at the cloth in his hands and took a deep breath. He told himself that it was alright, just keep on being nice. He supposed that it was still possible to teach him, if Yeosang were cooperative.
</p><p>
He swallowed his frustration and stepped closer towards Yeosang. As he lessened the distance between their bodies, their faces also grew near each other. Wooyoung’s eyes widened for a moment as Yeosang smirked with amusement.
</p><p>
Then it became very difficult for Wooyoung to maintain his composure.
</p><p>
“Just pay attention,” he muttered and avoided Yeosang’s eyes.
</p><p>
Wooyoung took ahold of the corners of the apron and spread the cloth apart. He put it to Yeosang’s narrow waist and reached behind him to connect the edges. His fingers wrapped around the strings and with them he made a single loop before his hands returned to Yeosang’s front.
</p><p>
Neither of them spoke. Yeosang was staring at him intently and Wooyoung was biting his tongue to avoid blurting out anything rude.
</p><p>
Yeosang broke the silence first. He tapped on Wooyoung’s arm and asked, “Excuse me, but could you make it a little bit tighter?”
</p><p>
Wooyoung‘s lip twitched. He could do that. “Sure.”
</p><p>
Wooyoung created another loop and jerked his elbows back as he roughly yanked at the strings. He pulled so hard that Yeosang stumbled forward a bit, letting out a startled noise. He wore a surprised expression, eyes widened, and then Wooyoung felt pleased with himself.
</p><p>
He tied a tight knot, making sure to pull hard at it. He noticed that Yeosang had blunt nails which usually made untying knots difficult. Wooyoung came up with the defense that if Yeosang had trouble undoing the knot, he would examine his apron more carefully and learn how Wooyoung tied it to begin with. 
</p><p>
With that reasoning, what Wooyoung just did wasn’t a petty action, far from it.
</p><p>
The apron was well fixed now. Wooyoung stared at his handiwork smugly and lifted his gaze. “How’s that?”
</p><p>
“It’s fine. Thanks,” Yeosang said. His voice was a little strained but he still wore that irritating smile.
</p><p>
“Good. I hope you’ll remember that for next week,” Wooyoung said, trying not to frown.
</p><p>
He went back to his island and collapsed against the counter when he was sure Yeosang wasn’t paying attention. It just registered to Wooyoung that he might’ve implied that he would help Yeosang put his apron on for him next class.
</p><p>
San only stared at him the entire time. He started, “So... are you going to explain what just happened, or...”
</p><p>
“What?” Wooyoung asked. His jaw hardened. “He got on my nerves.”
</p><p>
“So you help him?” San asked. He waggled his eyebrows. “I’d love it if you helped me too, Wooyoung!”
</p><p>
“Shut up,” Wooyoung groaned. He was sure of one thing now, and it was that he couldn't stand Kang Yeosang.
</p>
<p>A few weeks after the first class, San invited Wooyoung to his apartment for a little cook-off, just to see how they’ve improved since taking the class. Wooyoung looked forward to it all week; he’s hadn’t had the chance to cook at home for a while and he’s always wondered how good of a chef San was, knowing that he had a good sense of taste.</p><p>
But he didn’t take the bus just to see Kang Yeosang sitting on San’s couch.
</p><p>
“Hey, Wooyoung,” Yeosang waved. 
</p><p>
Wooyoung froze at the door. “Hi.” 
</p><p>
“Wooyoung, you’re here!” San exclaimed.
</p><p>
He glared at San and tried to make his voice sound bright. “Hey, San. Can we talk?”
</p><p>
“Yeah, sure,” San said. Wooyoung reached for the door and closed it, leaving the two outside.
</p><p>
“You two are friends?” Wooyoung asked.
</p><p>
“Yes, Yeosang is my friend! He’s not too bad, actually,” San said. “He makes great omelettes.”
</p><p>
“Are you kidding me? Just last week he almost started a fire in the lab,” Wooyoung frowned.
</p><p>
They were working with fried foods and Yeosang managed to spill hot oil onto the flat-top stove, which put a horrid smell of smoke into the lab. Wooyoung winced at the thought of that day. He arrived a little late, too. It would have been entirely preventable had he stepped in.
</p><p>
“Honestly, the lab is too restricting for him. He used my kitchen before and his stuff turned out great. Believe me, Wooyoung! He’s good! And licensed,” San tried to convince him.
</p><p>
“Yeah, right,” Wooyoung huffed, choosing not to believe any of those statements. San quietly raised an eyebrow to ask if their conversation was finished; after all, he still had a guest inside. Wooyoung sighed and headed back into the house.
</p><p>
Yeosang was still sitting on the couch, his posture less relaxed and more straightened, and Wooyoung realized that he may not have kept his voice very quiet outside.
</p><p>
They made eye contact and Yeosang’s expression was absolutely unreadable. Wooyoung tried to not show his emotions either but he definitely felt a sense of guilt.
</p><p>
San was either blind to the change in atmosphere or he was so aware that he wanted to keep things moving before the mood got worse. He clapped once, drawing their attention.
</p><p>
“Okay! Let’s get started, shall we?”
</p><p>
Wooyoung kept telling himself to be nice for the sake of his own sanity and San’s happiness, but it was getting increasingly more difficult to not tease Yeosang.
</p><p>
San had a couple of aprons around that they were allowed to use, but Yeosang needed help to put it on again. This time San helped him, and even showed him the step-by-step process. Wooyoung tried not to laugh and instead went to San’s bathroom to hide his face and wash his hands; San and Yeosang used the only sink in the kitchen to wash their hands.
</p><p>
Once that was done, San picked a simple recipe. It was nothing close to advanced, but rather a breakfast plate with fruits. It would be a collaborative effort since San’s kitchen was too small and the cleanup would take too long if all three of them made the same dish.
</p><p>
Each was assigned one task. San would cook the bacon, Wooyoung would make the pancakes, and Yeosang would cut the fruits and vegetables for garnish.
</p><p>
It seemed easy enough, but after Wooyoung mixed his pancake batter, he saw Yeosang struggling. San was too preoccupied with the stove, so he didn’t notice Yeosang continuously adjusting his grip on his knife.
</p><p>
“Would you like me to help you?” Wooyoung asked with a tight-lipped smile.
</p><p>
Yeosang seemed startled by his voice, his eyes going wide. He looked down at the cutting board, then back at Wooyoung.
</p><p>
“Okay,” Yeosang said finally, and Wooyoung got closer behind him, putting his arms on top of his to guide him.
</p><p>
Wooyoung craned his neck and lifted his jaw. It was sort of difficult to see over Yeosang’s shoulder while maintaining space between them, so Wooyoung had no choice but to just barely press himself to Yeosang’s back.
</p><p>
“Oh,” Yeosang whispered as he leaned forward.
</p><p>
“Okay?” Wooyoung asked. He swallowed. He was getting antsy for no reason. Maybe it was because Yeosang wielded a knife and Wooyoung chose to help him despite his mess-ups before.
</p><p>
“Yeah.”
</p><p>
“Okay, so... this is to make sure you won’t cut yourself.”
</p><p>
Wooyoung took Yeosang’s hand and guided him to put his fist to the surface of the chive, hiding his fingers under his palm so that only his knuckles would show.
</p><p>
Yeosang followed his instructions. His hand was soft to the touch and Wooyoung tried to ignore the feeling.
</p><p>
“Then you just...” Wooyoung took Yeosang’s other hand with the knife. “Do a rocking motion.”
</p><p>
Yeosang only moved his wrist, performing the rocking motion as Wooyoung instructed. He steadily made neat and even cuts. Even Wooyoung felt a little proud.
</p><p>
“I’m doing it,” Yeosang said in awe.
</p><p>
“Yeah, you are,” Wooyoung mumbled. He felt his face grow warm. Yeosang’s body was very warm too. 
</p><p>
San cleared his throat and only Wooyoung turned his head. His pan had stopped emitting sizzling sounds and there was a plate of cooked bacon on the counter already.
</p><p>
“So, should I do the pancakes if you’re both gonna cut stuff?” San asked. 
</p><p>
“No,” Wooyoung said quickly. He immediately peeled himself off of Yeosang’s back and grabbed the bowl of pancake batter again.
</p><p>
He stared into the bowl filled with the gooey mixture, wondering what in the world did he just do.
</p>
<p>“I think you should come over,” Yeosang told Wooyoung one morning. It was early enough that San hadn’t arrived yet, and early enough that Wooyoung was out of his own mind.</p><p>
Wooyoung thought his eyes and ears were tricking him. Yeosang stood in front of his island counter unwavering, and even tilted his head when Wooyoung stared at him. “Excuse me?”
</p><p>
“I’m inviting you to my apartment. You can say no,” Yeosang said.
</p><p>
“Okay,” Wooyoung was still in disbelief, but choosing to believe it wasn’t a dream, he played along. “Would you like my phone number? To send your address?”
</p><p>
Yeosang smiled. “Sure.”
</p><p>
When San arrived, Wooyoung retold the strange encounter to him. He gasped in response. “Wow, have fun on your date!” 
</p><p>
<i>“Date?” </i>  Wooyoung repeated. <i>Was it a date? </i> “It’s not a date!” 
</p><p>
“Sure, and oil and water mix perfectly,” San said. He added, “He’s never invited me over, so that must mean something.”
</p><p>
Wooyoung only swallowed. Despite the fact that he wasn’t going on a date, he found himself mulling about his outfit back at his apartment for much longer than he should. In the end, he settled on a stylish fit that seemed casual but much more formal than his usual wear. 
</p><p>
Yeosang sent him his address after class ended and they settled on a time during the evening. Wooyoung headed out early. His nerves were on fire but he tried to suppress them when he got on the bus. His leg was restless and he barely checked his phone; he savoured the time before saw Yeosang so that he would remember what it would be like to have the last of his sanity left. 
</p><p>
Wooyoung felt like he was following his own legs when he reached Yeosang’s apartment. He walked up the steps to his floor, and followed the corridor, carefully watching the numbers on the doors. 
</p><p>
He stopped in front of Yeosang’s door and took a breath to steel himself. Wooyoung knocked softly and within moments, the door opened. Yeosang poked his head out. 
</p><p>
“Hi, Wooyoung,” Yeosang greeted, looking happy to see him. He smiled and opened the door wider. 
</p><p>
“Hi, Yeosang. Am I late?”
</p><p>
“No, not at all. Come in,” Yeosang stepped aside to let him in. “Have you eaten yet?” he asked, probably out of politeness. 
</p><p>
“No, not yet,” Wooyoung answered. 
</p><p>
“Perfect,” Yeosang said. He gestured to the couch. “Okay. You can sit down, if you’d like.”
</p><p>
Wooyoung sat down on the edge of the couch. He was cautious to not put his back against the cushions.
</p><p>
“This is the TV. This is the remote. It has buttons, as you can see. I’m... going to do something but I’ll be quick,” Yeosang said in a rush before disappearing to the kitchen.
</p><p>
Wooyoung held his breath for a short moment.
</p><p>
“Just one more thing.” Yeosang stepped back out. “Do you like steak?”
</p><p>
“I love it,” Wooyoung said.
</p><p>
“Okay, good. Great. Thanks,” he nodded before disappearing once more. 
</p><p>
Wooyoung’s lip twitched as he let himself sit back. He was relieved to know that Yeosang was just as nervous as he was. 
</p><p>
So Wooyoung watched TV while Yeosang cooked. At first, the noises of a pan sizzling surprised him but he later became relaxed again, because of course Yeosang was going to cook for him. There was absolutely no other reason why he was there, Wooyoung told himself. 
</p><p>
Yeosang stepped out again. “Wooyoung, do you drink?” he asked.
</p><p>
“Only a little.”
</p><p>
“Alright. I’m almost finished,” Yeosang told him.
</p><p>
“It smells nice,” Wooyoung said, rising from the couch. 
</p><p>
“What are you doing?”
</p><p>
“I’m going to make the table.”
</p><p>
“Sit back down,” Yeosang grinned. “You don’t even know where my napkins are.”
</p><p>
Wooyoung remained stubborn. He felt himself smile, too. “No.” 
</p><p>
Yeosang let him make the table without napkins because he couldn’t find them, gathering two sets of knives and dinner forks, as well as wine glasses. He watched Yeosang plate the steak and felt his mouth water a little. He was pretty hungry.
</p><p>
“Sit down, I’ll serve it to you,” Yeosang said. 
</p><p>
“Oh, I can’t wait,” Wooyoung hummed. He sat down at the table and Yeosang gently placed the plate in front of him. Then he took a seat across from him, and Wooyoung paused as he held his knife and fork.
</p><p>
“You’re just going to watch me eat?” Wooyoung asked.
</p><p>
“Well, I want to know what you think before anything else.”
</p><p>
“My opinion is irrelevant,” he brushed Yeosang off. 
</p><p>
“I still want to know. You seem like you know a lot about food.”
</p><p>
“Alright...” Wooyoung laughed nervously. Slowly, he cut into the meat. It was tender enough to slice into easily, and Wooyoung tried to keep his anxiety down with the knowledge that Yeosang was watching him.
</p><p>
He took a bite and choked. Not because Yeosang poisoned him, but because it actually tasted nice. Actually, it was better than nice, but Wooyoung was too hesitant to admit it. 
</p><p>
“How is it?” Yeosang asked when Wooyoung swallowed. 
</p><p>
Wooyoung lifted his head. He avoided Yeosang’s eyes and stared at the wall behind him. On the wall was a small wooden frame with a white paper inside it. Wooyoung couldn’t read it from afar but he could make out its gold trim and ink signatures.
</p><p>
Its placement was so jarring, almost like Yeosang wanted Wooyoung to see it. 
</p><p>
A sense of dread overcame him as the realization sunk in. 
</p><p>
“I’m guessing that doesn’t belong to your roommate.”
</p><p>
Yeosang only offered him an amused smile. Of course, he knew exactly what Wooyoung was talking about as he continued to stare at the certificate. “I don’t have a roommate, Wooyoung.”
</p><p>
“Oh.” 
</p><p>
“So? What do you think?”
</p><p>
“I think...” Wooyoung wiped his mouth and drank a bit of the wine to clear his throat, but also for courage. “I’m... still unsure, so maybe, uh...”
</p><p>
Yeosang caught on quickly, but he seemed to enjoy Wooyoung losing his composure while it lasted. “Should I try again? I wouldn’t mind that. How about next week?”
</p><p>
Again, Wooyoung gulped down his wine. “Next week would be great.”
</p><p>
It was a date. As Yeosang grabbed his own plate, poured wine for himself, and stole a piece of Wooyoung’s steak off of his plate, Wooyoung accepted the fact that this was a date, too.
</p><p>
And, of course, Yeosang was a certified chef. The fact had indeed sunk in. Wooyoung narrowed his eyes at Yeosang who was pretending to not notice. His resolve broke the longer Wooyoung stared at the side of his face. 
</p><p>
“Were you acting all this time?”
</p><p>
Yeosang didn’t respond, but based on that cheeky smile, Wooyoung almost reached over the table to smack his shoulder.</p>
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